#Sniper Techniques

[skillissue71]

sooooooorryyyyy.........

[hungersauce]

God that meme about tf2 players getting a very special brainrot where just seeing the mercs makes us laugh is so real huh.

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[saksukei]

subtle things simon ‘ghost’ riley does for you

masterlist | simon has a crush on you | captain john price version

everybody on the base is aware of one thing. first – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant. second – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant’s favorite. it's clear that simon has taken a liking to you, but he disguises it well enough for it to sweep under your radar.

just knowing eye stares. god. he's such a sucker for just staring at you, be it when you guys are training, when there's a meeting going on, in the barracks, when somebody says something stupid. he looks to you as a form of reassurance, giving you a slight nod most of the time. this is his way to communicate. he's thankful for his mask because he knows damn well he's blushing underneath when his eyes meet yours and you give him a big grin.

speaking of eye contact, if any time ghost says something sarcastic under his breath and you hear it despite being across the room, he will absolutely wink at you. it's disguised so so well omg. especially if you mention something that's a known joke between the two of you, god he’ll just lean back, give you a wink and continue listening to the briefing. (he also subtly checks you out by the way)

has a habit of just messing your hair. he knows it irritates you, but that's just his way of showing affection. the first time he reached out his gloved hand to mess your hair, price just grinned. he knew simon was smitten.

he lets you ramble on and on about things you like, dislike, philosophical debates, anything really, with him occasionally adding quips. soap is so shocked at simon’s change of attitude because when he talks for a minute, the lieutenant just asks him to shut up.

he secretly makes things easy for you. like you gotta carry big boxes to the warehouse? they’ll be done before you know it. a report is holding you up? it's already stapled and on your desk. “what else?” he asks. he's terribly intuitive as well, so he knows when something is bothering you.

has a habit of just standing behind you. that's his way of looking out for you. and if he senses any danger, you best believe he's gonna be on his A game. be it a sniper or be it some new private that made a suggestive remark, he’ll put them straight.

he's your biggest supporter except he's constipated in actually supporting. you did pretty well on a mission? most you’re getting out of him is “you did good, yeah?” but that's it.

he's also so so smug with his remarks. i’m talking constant shit eating grins, smirks, fucking irritating cocky behavior but he’s so hot with it. “you think you can take on me?” even with his mask on, u can just tell!! “oh yeah? c'mere and prove me wrong”

fucking simp enjoys training with you soooo much like especially the ‘first one to get pinned loses’ he puts you down so easily. but then he coaches you as well “c’mon you can fight better than this” as he points out other techniques to use. “atta girl” (i’m gonna kms). always the person to challenge you and push you to your limits because he's not taking a risk when it comes to your life.

[kathaynesart]

Replica Donnie: Technodrome Sniper.

(More info under the cut:)

In his prime, Donnie was the only known fighter who could successfully hit an infant Technodrome while it was in low orbit (they actually don't come down to Earth normally except to attack). He had the firepower, the precision, but most importantly the mind needed to calculate exactly where they were going to be ten seconds in the future for his attacks to make contact. While he was never able to do enough serious damage to the mother Technodrome, he did manage to use this method to plant a tracker on it that still works to this day.

Finally have the time to put some of my concepts to paper. Really wanted to figure out where these boys were in the height of their power and how to make them even more powerful than the teens at the end of the series. Donnie makes a big show of using a shot put technique in Purple Jacket, so it feels only natural that he'd know how to javelin throw as well. Seems more up his alley if you ask me. I don't foresee this concept being used in any of the Replica flashbacks I have planned, so figured I would share for posterity. (NOTE: outfit not finalized yet)

[tobiasdrake]

Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

31 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 8

...

Peering down into the building from the adjacent rooftop, Soap sees you--his soulmate--through his sniper's scope. You. Here. On the wrong goddamn team again.

He mutters a curse into his radio.

You’re standing guard at your client’s back—a man who coasts under the radar as far as his criminal reputation is concerned, but a smuggler effective and dangerous enough to put him on the CIA’s hitlist. He’s hidden from view. Probably been told to stay away from windows for the night. You're obviously working security, outfitted to the nines as you would be on any job, rifle in hands, scanning the foyer for threats. You're unaware of 141’s snipers setting up on the rooftops outside.

Soap’s eyes darken. He doesn’t deal with internal conflict when he’s working. When things get complicated, he uncomplicates them. Right now, there are three thoughts in his head: 

One--he misses you.

Two--you blew him off to work for this scum.

And three--he needs to get his feet on the ground right now. You'll be lucky if all you get is an earful once he gets his hands on you.

He switches on his radio. "Got eyes on the target. LT, you in position yet?"

"Affirmative. In position," Ghost says, his voice gravelly and cold over the radio from his position on a neighboring rooftop. "Waiting on the signal."

Soap stares you down through his scope. His leather gloves creak and tighten around the handle of his rifle. It pisses him off how easy it would be to take the shot. If he were anyone else, you would be dead in moments. 

On the other hand, he could kill your client--your protectee--here and now. To hell with the mission parameters. It would be easy.

He sighs, flipping on his radio again. "Permission to infiltrate, Captain? Spotted a friendly inside."

Gaz's voice crackles over the radio instead. "Friendly this time, is she?" His tone makes it clear he’s spotted you too.

"Don't be jealous, Garrick."

"Positively green with envy, mate," Gaz replies, dry and sarcastic. "Too bad she’s not friendlier. Be helpful if you could actually get her to talk this time. Not to mention the other stunt you pulled."

Soap smirks and adjusts his scope to keep you in his sights. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

Gaz scoffs. "Plausible deniability is for paperwork."

"Aye. Maybe I’ll mention in my next report who tipped me off about her bein' our hostage, too."

There's a beat of static. "Got nothing to say about that."

Then Laswell's voice cuts in. "Kyle has a point. The building is locked down tight and it’s gonna be hard to get a clean shot. If she's with our target's security detail, that’s our ticket inside."

"And if she's not willing to help us out?" Price asks.

"Depends on how persuasive Soap is willing to be."

"I might've picked up a technique or two last time,” Soap says.

The radio crackles as Price takes in a deep breath and sighs it out through his nose. Somehow, he makes it sound stern.

"Intel is intel," Ghost says.

“Failing that, bribery’s always a solid bet for a merc,” Gaz adds. “If they don’t shoot you on sight.”

"Right, then," Price says. "Soap, regroup with Ghost. Prepare to infiltrate. Gaz and I will take overwatch. Ghost, keep on comms. We'll find you the main breaker switch. Soap, I need you to keep things quiet, you hear me? Mission objective is priority. Do not, under any circumstances, be seen."

Soap's blood is already pumping hot. He’s never loved overwatch. He’d rather be close to the action--get his feet on the ground. Get his hands on you. "Copy, Captain. Ghost, I'm aimin' for the north corner. Meet me in five."

…

You mill about at your post, feeling twitchy and unsatisfied. This job is, on first glance, the same as any. Your PMC hired you and a few other mercs out to act as bodyguards for a man with more money than morals, if the size and clientele of this gathering is anything to go by. 

You shift your weight, scanning the overdressed crowd for threats. You wouldn’t hate it if this party were cancelled early.

"Stand up straight," your teammate snaps. "You're working. Act like it."

You scowl, but say nothing.

"Don't make that face at me," he says, bite in his tone. Horangi. Like he’s so patient. He's on just as short a leash as you, and it's pissing him off just as much. The difference is he has the seniority to take it out on you. 

"I don't know how you do this without feeling like a caged animal," you mutter.

His eyes follow a woman in a tight red dress as she passes by. Obviously, he knows what he'd rather be doing.

"A cage with a paycheck," he replies. "Some things you learn to tolerate."

You scan the room again. Your protectee is still here. That's good. You're hoping he takes his sweet time before he goes downstairs to start the so-called afterparty. 

You glance at Horangi again. "You know where the cargo is? Downstairs?"

"Last I heard. I got the east wing of this floor," he says. If the idea of that cargo is bothering him, he hides it well. He’s a good merc and he does what he’s told, like it or not.

You were a good merc, too, up until three weeks ago. Worrying about what rich idiots get up to isn't what you should be doing. You're supposed to keep the client happy. It's not your fault he can’t party without doing illegal shit.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to check on it."

Horangi’s eyes narrow, flicking to you. "No, you’re not. Stay put."

"Fine. I'm going to the bathroom, then."

"Fine," Horangi snaps. "Go to the bathroom, and make sure you come right back. And don’t talk to anybody."

You walk away, rifle in hand, making your way into the back hall. You pass into the dim sconce light and swear you see something through the enormous glass windows as you walk by them. But there’s nothing there.

The lights flicker once. A beat. Just long enough for you to notice before they even out again. 

You pause at a flicker of movement near the side door up ahead. You have a split second to wonder why there’d be nobody securing the side door before the lights go out.

When you turn and head back for the foyer, you stop short. Down the hall, where you just came from, looms a familiar shape. The white skull on his mask pops out of the shadows. 

You don't make it back to the foyer.

Before you have a chance to react, your body armor is yanked hard from the back. You're pulled backward into an adjacent room and shoved hard against the wall. You expect the bite of steel against your neck or your temple, but it never comes. 

“Quiet, now."

You register Soap's familiar accent before your eyes adjust to the dark. "Johnny?"

"That’s right," he says. He's still got that way of speaking that's almost a purr when he's being quiet.

It suddenly feels like a long time since you’ve felt the heat of his body, pinned tight between him and the wall the way you are. He’s coiled tight, all lithe muscle and restrained strength. His eyes glitter with that wild, predatory look. It’s decidedly dangerous and tantalizing.

"I missed you, darlin'. You're gonna make this simple, aye? I know you can," he says.

You swallow the immediate urge to comply. Holy hell, you forgot what that feels like. "You need to stop greeting me like this," you hiss.

"I'd love nothin' more than to greet you in a different way, but you've got to start makin'  smarter decisions first." He leans all the way in and presses his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling you in his full tactical gear. 

You muffle a sigh. He makes a quiet, content sound. 

"Besides, I kinda like this way of greetin’ ya. You make this little noise."

The radio on his neck echoes to life. You hear a tinny voice come through, saying something about an objective.

His eyes shut tight as he listens, one hand pressed firmly against the wall beside you. He doesn't back away yet. He's been dreaming of this for too long--laying his head on you and letting the sound of your heartbeat drown out everything else. It just can't fucking happen yet.

You feel, rather than hear, his low, annoyed grumble as he replies. "No, I copy. Just keep your bloody heads on."

You concentrate, trying to make out the voices of his teammates. It sounds like Ghost's voice.

Soap groans, his fingers flexing and gloves squeaking against the wallpaper. “I’ll be there in a minute, LT.”

You shift slightly. "Why are you here?"

A muscle twitches in Soap's jaw, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eye. "Should be askin' you the same thing. You’re on guard detail for a bloody criminal."

"It's a complicated situation."

"Then uncomplicate it."

You open your mouth to reply, but Soap's radio crackles back to life. This time, you can make out the words.

"Target located." Ghost's voice.

"Attaboy." Price. "Get him isolated. Third floor, east windows."

“Won’t be that easy,” Ghost replies. “He’s surrounded by civilians. Security’s thick.”

You tense even as Soap begins to relax. You fist your hand in the collar of his tactical vest, trying not to sound frantic. "Do not kill him. Johnny, listen to me."

Soap's expression turns grim, and he looks down at your fingers. Then he reaches up to cover your hand with his. "I know he's your client, but there's a reason we're here. He smuggles weapons. Big weapons, and not to anyone friendly. Just take it easy and let us clean up."

"No, listen," you snap, pulling him a millimeter closer. "He has the cargo here. It's not weapons. It's people."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / [part 8] / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[sailing-ever-west]

Thinking about how much the strawhats need Usopp.

His place on the team has always been weird and uncertain for him. He's a sniper but also he's an inventor and he fixes the ship but the thing he gets known for is mostly the long nose and the lying. He calls himself a great captain but he's not the captain and in fact he has very little decision-making power and even less actual confidence. He's the most cowardly. Or maybe he's the bravest. He's pretty sure they only keep him around because he helped them get a ship. He'd die for them anyway.

But the strawhats don't really need a sniper, or a liar, or a guy who gave them a ship. They need Usopp. And the reason has nothing to do with whatever his official role on the crew may be.

They need Usopp because they need a (goodhearted, clever, brave, talented, but nonetheless) regular guy. It's actually so important for the strawhats to have someone who knows what it's like to be weak, who has to really grapple with the consequences of every fight and crazy adventure, who has some semblance of being average and practical about things.

Nami shares some of this role of not being impossibly strong and unkillable the way the others are, but even she has solid close combat techniques and has random bursts of crazy where she'll do things like stab a 3 inch wide spike through her foot to win a fight and help Vivi. She's just pretending to be normal. You can see the glint in her eyes and know she's actually insane.

Also, Usopp is like. Actually nice to people. Regularly. He wants to avoid conflict. They desperately need at least one crew member who wants to avoid conflict. Nami does not serve this purpose quite like Usopp does, either. Sure, she doesn't want to get into fights willy-nilly and she'll often run instead, but she has a harsh and prickly personality that doesn't exactly set people at ease. Chopper also avoids fights but that's mostly for medical reasons and he has very little problem getting into them if he thinks it's necessary. Sanji is kind to people, but he's only nice to women, and will start fights with very little prompting. Luffy is friendly but completely tactless, Zoro doesn't even try to be sociable, and Robin thinks murder is a little funny. So again, between all these weirdos, they need a guy who's just like. Hey what if we said good morning like normal people. What if when some stranger is mildly rude and has a lot of weapons we just ignore it. What if we like. Got along with people. That would be neat.

Anyway I don't have a big grand finish for this post but just. The strawhats were genuinely in need of Some Guy, and Usopp solves that problem even though he thinks he's not special enough. Of course he's unique and talented and strong, but he's still an average human with average physical strength and slowly hard-earned skills. The strawhats without that have no tether.

[aeskairo]

Okay, but we should take a moment to appreciate this scene:

So these birds are called woodcocks TODAY. But in the 1800s they were called SNIPES.

The word "snipe" used to cover about 40 species of very similar looking birds, but sometime in the past 200 years, a few of those birds were renamed woodcocks.

But anyway, when they're flying, they make these unpredictable turns so theyre one of the most difficult birds to shoot.

So a sniper is literally someone who is really fucking good at shooting THESE SPECIFIC BIRDS.

That is literally where the word "Sniper" comes from.

At this point in the story Asirpa just met Ogata. She doesn't know anything about him yet.

Ogata has based his entire self worth on being a sniper.

He feels that being raised in a broken home caused him to not develop things that are fundamentally human. He's defective and broken.... missing important pieces. That's why people mistreat him and things don't work out for him.

As defective and broken as he sees himself, he does have one good thing. HE IS A DAMN GOOD SNIPER.

He went ALL IN on this sniping thing.

He has disturbingly intimate knowledge of all different types of guns, down to the sounds they make while being fired. He knows and employs a bunch of sniping techniques that no one in Japan has ever seen, he knows the history of sniping, he read up about sniping techniques of the American revolution. He can load a gun with his tongue.

Like I said, ALL IN.

His marksmanship is thing that gives him value. Even if people despise him, he can be relied upon and needed as a weapon.

It's the only thing about himself that he's proud of.

And Asirpa just denied him that.....

She doesn't think he can do it. She doesn't think he's good enough.

#Triggered.jpg

So of course he was going to get up at the asscrack of dawn to shoot these damn birds. He probably spent the whole night bubbling around in his low self-worth.

He is a sniper and can indeed shoot a snipe..... In fact he can shoot THREE snipes. Way more than you.

There you go. This is an important scene.

Little girl meets Adult man for the first time and invalidates him in the worst way possible.

[autisticgingerblonde]

If Fallout 4 companions had TikTok accounts

Cait would have an account dedicated to fighting and thirst traps (aimed at women mostly). Teaches women self-defense techniques. She earns a spot in the algorithm of muscle mommies. She also raises awareness for addicts and former addicts, educating on the effects of drugs and the reasons people seek them out in the first place. Honestly, it's a very good account to follow.

Codsworth is just confused about TikTok. He's like "oh so what are the children saying these days? Aura? I'll have to add a new word to my vocabulary banks! Cheerio, mum!"

Curie makes educational videos for all ages and all subjects. She has a series of learning Japanese, a series of vaccines and the science behind them, a series about the effects of different types of parenting, you name it. She also takes suggestions from her audience on what new things to research.

Danse has unintentional thirst traps. He talks about power armor and the Brotherhood of Steel but also posts workouts. These are what get the most attention out of everything he posts. The BookTok girlies find him and all hell breaks loose in the comment sections. He responds to this with, "Thank you, civilians. I am not sure what you mean, but I am glad you are supporting the Brotherhood of Steel by being on my page. Thank you for your enthusiasm for our righteous cause. Ad victorium." People armchair diagnose him as autistic.

Deacon does "GRWM as i tell you about the time i ______" videos where each day he looks completely different and you can never tell if he's telling the truth or not. He also does head shaving videos that double as story times or opinion pieces. You can't tell if those are true or not either.

Dogmeat has a viral account followed by millions. Get's a lot of "I can't imagine liking this guy" comments with the op replying to their own comment with "anymore than I already do. Huge fan!"

Hancock does subtle cheeky thirst traps and dance challenges. This entire post was inspired by the FACT that Hancock would participate in the brat summer trend and would do the Apple dance with Fahrenheit filming it. He also tells stories, mostly of him being high. He gets a lot of requests to cosplay Deadpool.

MacCready has a lot of things he does. Some videos are sniper trick shots, some are Grognak the Barbarian yapping (he does short lore deep dives when he can), and some are about being a young single dad. He doesn't show Duncan's face because he's extremely protective. Casually drops the most insane lore about his childhood which leads to comments like "are we just ignoring that he said he grew up in a cave?"

Nick Valentine would be a very popular fashion and "a day in the life of a detective". He'd do vintage fashion looks, like loose slacks and suspenders with a trench coat to top it off. Sometimes does a deep dive into detective history. Gets a lot of thirsty comments to which he replies "that's one way to get the coolant pumping."

Old Longfellow has the appeal of the New England, stormy weather, sweater-wearing fisherman aesthetic, and he tells stories of his youth while showing people around the area he grew up. Learns mobile phone cinematography to make it look cooler. Every video has either a lesson or a skill for survival.

Piper's account is solely focused on news and truth, posting every source she uses. She uses the trend of an insane video, like someone falling badly on the ground or getting splashed with water, and stitches it to look like a seamless transition of her rolling from the fall or being splashed to start talking about her news stories. It gets traction so she continues.

Porter Gage has a side gig of running TikTok accounts for different people. Gets the money, doesn't get the backlash when they get canceled for racism or worker exploitation.

Preston has an account dedicated to charity work and social activism. He makes sure to highlight organizations he feels are doing the world a service and regularly has fundraisers. He's well-known for always sharing content from people in dire situations and raising money for them. Has a master document of Go Fund Me pages and vets every one of them.

Strong has a lot of those unintentional boomer tiktoks that are 1 second long and he's just looking at the screen in confusion.

X6 cyber bullies the rest of them because he thinks having a TikTok is cringe and stupid (he is currently writing hate comments with his TikTok account)

[spooky-pomegranate]

Through The Door:

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Ghost doesn't trust you and when he hears you and Captain Price fighting in his office he stops to listen. But he hears and sees more than he ever expected.

It’s been ten days of this. Ten days of watching, following, and listening. And somehow it still hadn’t been enough time. Ghost still hadn’t caught you. But he knew he would. He just had to remain patient. He’d keep watching. You’d slip up eventually. He was sure of it.

Even if you did have everyone else fooled.

In just ten days, you had already made fast friends with Johnny. The two of you were always laughing and telling one another stupid jokes and stories.

The last thing you’d carried on about was music. You preferred old-school rock and roll. The Stones, The Who, The Beatles. But you liked classical too. You made fun of Soap for his favorite genre, cheery electropop. You called it music for “love-sick teenage girls” and teased him endlessly. He called you “a walking iPod shuffle” and said you were confused about your own taste. You playfully punched Johnny in the arm before you both laughed like hyenas.

It was like you were siblings, the way you constantly bantered and bickered. It set Ghost on edge. You both were so comfortable around each other. It was so familiar, so natural… It wasn’t right.

And Gaz, he wasn’t any better. You had asked him for additional training and on most days, Ghost found you two at the shooting range long after the recruits had left for dinner. At first, your conversations were shallow. In between firing rounds of high-caliber ammunition, you asked him about his life on base and how long he’d known Soap and Price. But the conversations eventually grew longer. And they grew deeper. Gaz told you about his family, his hometown, and his childhood. You told him about how difficult it was to leave the States and move to the UK on your own.

Ghost could tell that as the days were passing and as your conversations were growing more meaningful, the two of you were starting to trust one another more. And that frustrated him. Why couldn’t Gaz see what he saw in you?

He wondered if your skills were what threw the others off.

Ghost couldn’t deny that you were better than most of the other recruits. You were a natural at the shooting range. You picked up on techniques quickly and put them into practice almost flawlessly. And even though you pretended to be intimidated by it in the beginning you were especially good with a sniper rifle. You always asked the right questions about the winds, the terrain, and any potential bullet drop. And while Ghost found that suspicious, Gaz seemed to be amazed by it. Proud even. He joked with you about how quickly you could do math in your head and how that would come in handy if you were ever posted up in a sniper’s nest someday.

“Over my dead body,” Ghost had mumbled to himself as he watched you both from the shadows.

But you weren’t perfect. When Ghost did pull himself out of the base’s dark corners and did talk with you, you were always nervous. You spoke at breakneck speeds. Your sentences mushed together, like a quickly moving mudslide, totally out of control and unpredictable. You struggled to look him in the eyes. You fidgeted, stared at your shoes, and gave him any excuse you could to get away.

 “Sorry can’t chat, Johnny wants to train in the gym.”

 “I think I just heard Gaz call my name.”

 “Gotta go. Price needs me.”

And Price… you definitely had that man wrapped around your little finger. Or at least Ghost thought you did until one night when he heard you two fighting inside the Captain’s office.

“Price, why won’t you tell me what you and Laswell are planning for the raid?”

Your words had stopped Ghost in his tracks. He glanced down the empty hall to make sure no one was around before sinking to his knees and pressing his ear to the door of Price’s office.

“Come on, love we’ve been over this,” he heard the Captain answer.

“But I can help!”

Your voice was pleading. You were practically begging Price. But why did you care so much Ghost wondered?

“I want you to focus on training. You asked me to teach you to fight remember?”

“I know… but you also promised to let me take some of the weight off your shoulders too.”

“You’re too smart, you know that.”

“Price…” you whined the Captain’s name and Ghost rolled his eyes. He imagined that on the other side of the door, you were probably looking up at Price with doe eyes. Needy and wanton. God… you probably were pouting your lips too.

He could only hope that Price would see through you.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be before then. I can handle this, I promise ya I’m fine. We’ve got more resources and men now. It’s not like before. We aren’t alone anymore. Ya trust me don’t you?”

Good man, Ghost thought to himself. Don’t give in to her so easily. As long as Price continued to keep his cards close to his chest maybe they’d all get through this in one piece.

“But what if he’s there? What if he has my briefcase there and he’s figured out how to use it? He’ll see you coming. Price what if this is a setup?” You were doing that thing where you spoke 100 miles an hour again, your words sloshing and sliding into one another.

“Laswell’s been surveilling the area. He hasn’t been there. Your briefcase isn’t there.”

“Price but what if-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Come here, love.”

Ghost heard the sound of a chair scrape and footsteps shuffle away from the door. He knew you were walking over to Price. He could practically see you standing in front of him in his mind.

Then you sighed.

“I’m tired, Price.” Your voice was softer. Ghost could barely hear you now. He tried to press even closer to the door. The metal was cold against his ear. “I know I asked for this… learning how to fight. But it’s harder than I thought it would be and…”

You stopped.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Your Lieutenant…”

Shit. Your voice was muffled.

Shit. He needed to hear this.

Ghost slowly reached for the door handle and carefully, he turned the knob. The door opened the smallest crack. He peered inside.

You were sitting across the room, straddled on Price’s lap. Your head was buried against his chest. The Captain’s hands rubbed against the back of your t-shirt in lazy circles.

“Ghost? What about him, sweetheart?”

At the sound of Price’s voice, you pulled your head from his chest.

“He hates me.”

Price stilled and his jaw clenched. Neither of you spoke. Ghost held his breath before looking to his left and right. Thankfully, the coast was still clear.

“He doesn’t trust you,” Price eventually said, breaking through the silence.

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

You sighed loudly and moved to stand, but Price reached up and quickly pulled you back toward him by your hips.

“Don’t leave,” Price said, his voice low and firm. “I trust you.”

“Then why doesn’t he?”

Because I know there’s something else going on with you, Ghost thought to himself. Because I know there’s a secret you’re hiding.

“Because he doesn’t know you like I do.” Price replied, his hand moving up your spine to hold the back of your head. “He doesn’t know how smart you are. That you can build something from nothing. He doesn’t know that you’re a fighter, that you’ve been dealt a shite hand in life but you’ve always soldiered on.”

Price leaned forward and kissed you.

Ghost looked down at the floor. He should leave, he thought. He should go back to the barracks and sit behind his computer and look for dirt on you that way. It would be less awkward. He’d feel less strange.

But Ghost didn’t move. He couldn’t.

What if this was the moment you finally slipped? What if you said something? He needed to be more patient. He’d stay a little longer. If only for Gaz, for Johnny. If they got hurt because he missed something he’d never forgive himself.

He watched as Price leaned back, pulling away from your lips. A smile sprawled across his face.

“He doesn’t know how sweet you taste either, sweetheart.”

You laughed, running your own hands through Price’s short hair as the Captain dove into your neck.

“I mean it, love. If any of those boys got to taste you like I do, if they got to feel you like I do…” Price pulled back from your neck and looked you in the eye. “If they got to fuck you like I do… none of them would ever distrust you.”

“Price, that isn’t really reassuring. You’re just saying you trust me because we’ve fucked.”

Ghost’s grip tightened against the door knob. Was that what Price was saying? Was that really all you were to him? A plaything?

He opened the door another inch. He needed to see your face better. He had to know what this was between you and his Captain.

“Remember the first day I brought you here? And I took you to my room. And I showed you all my scars. Do you remember?”

Ghost watched as Price tugged on your hair. Your head tilted back toward the ceiling and the captain dove into your neck again, kissing you just below your ear.

“Yes,” you answered with heavily weighted breath.

“And do you remember how you kissed me? How you teased me before you slid your sweet little tongue into my mouth? Do you remember?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in affirmation.

“And do you remember how good it felt when my tongue was in between your legs? How it felt when my beard brushed against your thighs.”

Ghost felt his face grow hot. The scene in front of him made him feel like an intruder, a dirty and unwelcome voyeur. He knew he should leave.

But he couldn't make himself move.

He needed the truth.

He watched as one of Price’s hands left your hair and trailed slowly down your body. His fingers moved from your collarbone. Lower. Grazing your breast. Lower. Lingering over your stomach… Lower.

“Yesssss,” you whined as Price’s hand slid underneath the waistband of your pants and disappeared from Ghost’s view.

“And do you remember how hard you made me? Just by tasting you? Tell me you remember.”

You whimpered. It was a sound Ghost had never heard from you. Sweet. High-pitched. Soft.

Price’s shoulder moved up and down. His hand still plunged between your legs.

Ghost swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“I- fuckkkk,” you bucked your hips toward Price, “I remember.”

“And tell me you remember how I fucked you. When I first pushed inside you… how was it? Do you remember was I fast, like this?”

Ghost watched as Price moved his hand quicker. In and out. His right shoulder rose. Up and down. Faster, faster, and faster.

You yelped. The noise was loud and short. Your hands left Price’s hair and dug into his shoulders. You were clawing into him desperately. Falling apart with every second, every movement.

“No… no you weren’t fast,” your voice wavered as you answered.

“Good. Good girl. You remembered. Yeah, I was slow, just like this. Wasn’t I?” Price eased his pace, slowing down the movement of his hand buried in your pants.

“Yes… just like that,” you moaned as your eyes rolled back. You were lifting your hips up and down on Price’s lap now. Matching his pace.

Ghost shifted on his knees. His hand tightened against the doorknob as he continued to watch you both from the dimly lit hall.

“Has anyone else ever made you feel like that before, sweetheart? Has anyone ever made you feel that good?” Price asked as his voice dropped lower. He was practically growling at you.

And you…your face turned pink. Your lips parted. Your eyes closed. And your breathing… it became sporadic. Each inhale became a gasp. Each exhale became more desperate than the last.

This was wrong. Ghost shouldn’t be watching this. This wasn’t his intention. He never meant to see this. His eyes fell to the ground. But still, he stayed. He listened.

“No,” you moaned.

“That’s right. And no one has ever made me feel as good as you did either. You felt so good, love. So fucking good. And you want to know why I trust you?”

Ghost eyes snapped back to the two of you. This was the answer he needed.

“Mmmm tell me...” you gasped. The Captain picked up his pace, his hand delving between your legs with greater force. God the sounds your body was making. They were so loud. “Please tell me, Price.”

“It’s because I love you, beautiful. I’m so in love with you. You’re so perfect. I trust you with my life because I love you. I want to fuck you like that all the time… because I love you. If anyone got to love you like I love you they would trust you. Forever. Always.”

Ghost heard enough. He quietly backed away and gently closed the door.

He had found a truth today. Even if it wasn’t his place to hear it.

-----------------------------------------------------

(More from this story on AO3)

[stellarbit]

Reassurance

I needed some positive affirmations and I made Tech give em. No real warnings, but light discussion of anxiety.

2.8k words

You asked Wrecker to train with you and you keep getting knocked on your ass. Tech offers to help and ends up helping more than you thought possible.

It's a comfort fic mostly and I'm feral for some Tech comfort. Enjoyyyy (Also let me know if you can spot the other potential prompt in here.)

“You’re doing it wrong.” Wrecker chuckled.

You hit the sparring mat hard, knocking some of the air from you. Since surrendering your lightsaber, you took to honing your other combat skills. Wrecker’s hand-to-hand skills were some of the best and he was happy to help when you approached him.

He towered over you as you got back on your feet. “You need to put your weight into it.” 

“I am.” You didn’t mean to sound as annoyed as you did.

“No you’re not.” Crosshair taunted in a sing-song tone from his place leaning against a far wall. The downtime was rare and Crosshair deemed watching you flounder worthy of that time. “You hesitate every time you need to push harder. An easy way to get killed.”

You whirled on him. “I push as hard as I can.” Everything about the thin sniper got under your skin. In a way that made you want to hurry up and see what face he’d make when you slap him across the face. Because it wasn’t and if. It was absolutely a when.

Multiple times you caught him watching you. When you did, his stare stayed on whatever part had caught his attention before slowly meeting your eyes. The way he smirked and chewed that fucking toothpick screamed, ‘Do it, I dare you.’

Crosshair shook his head dismissively and snorted. “No. You’re not.”

Wrecker stepped between you and Crosshair, his massive frame blocking your view. His hands were splayed out in a placating gesture.“What he means is you’re holding back.”

“Or maybe she’s afraid of hurting you.” Crosshair quipped.

Wrecker belted out a laugh, “Ha! Yeah, right.” At that, you cut him a mean look.

The door to the sparring room hissed open and Tech filed in, out of armor and no databad in hand. He took in the sight of you all, to his eyes, just standing around. “Well that was short lived. I thought you’d be sparring most of the afternoon.”

“We are.” Your temper was quickly burning through your patience. “They just have some unhelpful commentary.”

“Perhaps, although you do not handle criticism well.” Tech turned to Wrecker. “What seems to be the issue?”

Wrecker chose his words carefully, wary of the intensity of your glare. "She..." He paused, feeling the weight of your disapproving stare. "She hits a wall and hesitates when she needs to push through."

Tech pondered for a moment, tapping a knuckle to his chin. “I’d like to see what exactly you mean. I may be able to troubleshoot this obstacle.” He tipped his head to you. “If you don’t mind my watching.”

Your stomach flipped. There hadn't been many opportunities for the two of you to be alone. In fact, you hadn’t been alone since your last mission ended. You were discreet in seeking out his company, mindful of not being too obvious. Despite helping you with your broken armor before and acknowledging, even relishing, your attraction to him, nothing more had come of it. You were starting to wonder if it had just been a passing interest for him.

Wrecker and you assumed your positions while Tech adjusted his goggles, a soft beep indicating the start of his recording.

You followed the familiar routine, blending the techniques Wrecker had taught you with those instilled by your former Master. Initially, everything flowed smoothly as you utilized your agility to evade Wrecker's raw strength. There were moments when you successfully countered his attacks and seized the offensive. However, as Wrecker intensified his efforts, a tightness began coiling in your stomach that radiated into your limbs.

The sensation swelled, threatening to overflow or overwhelm you entirely. Just as it had countless times before, the intensity reached a dizzying point where you could no longer anticipate Wrecker's moves. Ultimately, in your attempt to flank him, Wrecker landed an elbow to your chest, sending you sprawling onto your back.

The wind knocked out of you again, leaving you writhing on the floor. Another beep came from Tech’s direction. Recording over I guess.

Wrecker rushed to you. “I think we should stop for today.”

“Agreed.” Tech said firmly as he approached. Kneeling down, he made himself at home inspecting your head for injuries. “While phrenospasms aren’t typically life threatening, it is best to rest after experiencing them.” After a moment of silence, Tech sighed, “You need to catch your breath.”

Wrecker winced, knelt down, and slid a hand under your back to ease you into a sitting position. “Sorry about that, sarad,” His large hand did a few circles on your back before sliding to your cheek. The soft gesture soothed you. “But you’ll get it!” He gave you one last pat on the back before standing up.

Tech clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I'll check her over," he announced, his annoyance evident. Waving off their presence in a bored manner, he added, "It would be best if that happened without any 'unhelpful commentary.'”

Crosshair pushed off of the wall. “Well, if you’re looking for someone else to knock you down, I’ll gladly do it.” You nearly bit his leg as he walked by.

When the door shut and you were alone, Tech pulled your face back in his direction. “Do not dwell on Crosshair’s remarks. He enjoys getting a rise out of people.” With his arm cradling your back, he held your arm and brought the two of you to your feet. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You took a deep breath in, stepped out of his grasp, and rolled your shoulders. “Just need to practice.” Tech's gaze remained focused on you, analyzing your every move. "When you started hesitating, right before Wrecker landed that hit, you were thinking something. What was it?"

“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” You said quickly, hoping he would drop it.

He didn’t. “You were definitely processing something. Other than your sparring, what were you feeling?”

You turned and blinked at Tech. He never failed to surprise you. “Emotionally?” Analyzing the failures in your strategy was one thing, asking about feelings was a completely separate realm.

Tech shook his head, “No, no. Physically” He walked forward and placed a hand in the middle of your chest. “Just now, you may not be thinking a singular thought but you are feeling your heart rate spiking. Am I correct?” He could feel it himself, but it was important you acknowledged it.

Of course he was correct, his touch kicked your heart into your throat. 

When you nodded he continued. “It is safe to say that is due to your attraction to me. While you may not be actively thinking about it, your body is reacting with patterned behavior due to recurring circumstantial stimuli.” He pulled his hand back and said, “In other words, our bodies remember how we react during significant events. When exposed to similar circumstances our bodies tend to react in an established pattern. It can be positive, like nostalgia. Or it can be detrimental in the cases of fear or stress. Our bodies react before our minds can register what we feel.” He let out a final quip, “It is a survival instinct.”

Tech stepped back and rolled a hand towards you, urging you on. “Now, what were you feeling?”

Taking a second to take what he said in, you realized no one had ever asked you that. The Jedi pointed out identified concerning behavior in you and voiced their warnings, but they never asked you where it stemmed from. They made their theories that then solidified into fact. After that, not much changed their minds. One abided by their rules … or left. 

Seeing how you were stationed with a squad of clones sans a lightsaber, it was clear where your path went. 

Your gaze wandered around the room - anywhere but at Tech. “Something built inside me and I lost focus.”

“Your avoidant behavior suggests this is an uncomfortable topic. Why?”

As well meaning as his questioning may have been, showing him what the Jedi Council had seen hadn’t been at the top of your priorities. “It’s just… I know there’s something wrong with me. But don’t worry,” You tried to laugh it off, “I’ll figure it out.”

Tech’s brows furrowed and his head tilted, clearly confused as to how you got to that conclusion, “I did not say, nor do I believe, you are defective.” The last word snapped your eyes back to him. It didn’t carry weight for just you. “Did the Jedi tell you that?”

Suddenly you could hear your Master’s voice, ‘Dangerous.’ It rang through you and with it came shame. Looking at Tech, patiently asking you questions for your own benefit, your Master’s voice fell silent. 

  “I can’t fight like the Jedi. They fight with the force to keep peace for the greater good.” You hesitate before continuing. “But this energy builds inside of me and I want to use it because sometimes… sometimes I want to win no matter the cost.” Tech’s expression had not changed; he did not seem to grasp the issue. Desperately, you clasped your hands to your chest. “That’s wrong. It’s selfish and that’s not the way of the Jedi. Being selfish can make us - “ You flinched, “them dangerous. Jedi aren’t supposed to want things. I want a great many things, Tech, and the list only grows. The way I am makes me weak minded and dangerous.”

“When you say that you feel this way ‘sometimes,’ what kind of instances are you referring to?”

“The times when losing will cost me something I care about.”

“There is no passion, there is serenity.” Tech recited one of the tenets of the Jedi. “There is no emotion, there is peace.”

“Exactly.” His boundless knowledge earned him a humorous scoff from you.

Tech hummed in understanding. “I can see the Jedi perspective on such traits, considering their Code. However, I'm struggling to discern the correlation between that and your issue with Wrecker. It's merely a practice session, therefore you're not in danger of losing anything beyond the match itself.

You both stood in silence for a few moments. Reflecting on what you confessed and with eyes on the ground, you finally spoke, “I asked Wrecker to spar because I want to know that when I fight I will win. I lose focus because losing to Wrecker now means I’m going to lose something more important than a match in the future.”

An extra set of feet came into sight followed by Tech’s face.

Tech knelt to meet your eyes, adjusting his goggles to better observe you. "The logic in that statement is flawed, at best." he remarked, his tone measured. 

"Individual motivations and morals in combat varies from person to person. As long as your primary motive isn’t causing others or yourself pain, there is no wrong way to survive."

"What if my actions to protect what matters to me hurts others?" The genuine fear on your face caught Tech off guard. "If I prioritize a few, what about the rest?" Your self-doubt and self-loathing troubled Tech; it was a burden you didn't deserve to bear.

“There will always be champions for the many. The few, however, need their champions too.” A slight quirk of his lips hinted at a comforting reassurance. "Additionally, if you're using losing to Wrecker as a benchmark for your future success rates, I'd advise adjusting your expectations. Even General Skywalker himself lost a sparring match to Wrecker. Merely holding your own against him is an accomplishment worthy of pride."

The way your face contorted paired with you sinking to your knees made him worry you might be sick. Instead you sucked in a massive breath and on a shakey exhale you said, “Tech, thank you.” You sounded lighter. A point of satisfaction for Tech.

There was something Tech wanted for you. “What you feel and how you feel is valid. It is crucial you know that.” He cupped his hand just below your ear to smooth his thumb over your cheek. “Until you do, I am glad to remind you.”

Tech’s eyes fell to your lips momentarily, your pained expression warmed into a small smile. There was only one thing missing. He moved his hand to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath caught, and your lips parted involuntarily. "I am curious to hear about this growing list of wants." Slipping his forefinger under your chin he moved your gaze with his as he raised to his knees, posturing over you. It gave him a full view of the flush finally working its way across your cheeks. "Have there been any recent additions?"

Looking at the way your hair was bound together, he didn’t deny the urge to explore a few things. He hooked finger into your hair tie and pulled your hair loose. It fell down, some of it falling into your face. Tech use his fingers to comb your hair back, stopping at the nape of your neck, and then circling his hand back to your cheek. Watching you over the past few rotations, he’d noticed your fondness for your face being touched.

Leaning into his touch, with a hand resting over his, you were practically purring for him. “There have.” You said, spurring him on.

“Do people appear on this list?”

Your nod came with a subtle shift in your gaze, your eyes half-lidded. Tech felt a flutter in his chest, he even felt heat creeping into his own face.

"Do I feature on this list?" he ventured, his voice betraying a bit of anticipation.

Your eyes drifted to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. "I want you, Tech," you confessed, a weighty emotion evident in your expression.

Tech's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he lowered himself slightly. In response, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. "What exactly do you want, sarad?" he inquired softly.

Just as he hoped, your eyes widened for a split second at the sound of their nickname for you. It meant "flower" in Mando'a—a fitting description for how you blossomed in their presence, and at this moment, in his. 

"Stars above, I want you to kiss me.” Without hesitation, you seized Tech, drawing him down to your level. When your lips hit, Tech only tensed for a second, his hand finding its place at your waist, drawing you closer and deepening the kiss. You responded eagerly, capturing his lower lip with a gentle suck.

A soft, pleased sound escaped Tech's lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. Your hands roamed freely, one wrapping around his back while the other found its place around his neck. With a forceful tug you two stumbled backward in unison.

Not breaking the kiss, Tech shoved the hand on your waist out to cushion the fall. Once lowered onto your back, he pulled away to hover over you and allowed you both some air. You didn’t let him pull too far away, stopping him by hooking a leg around his. The pressure of you grinding up into him pulled another little sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut before he playfully pressed his weight down onto you. “I will say one thing.”

With a playful huff, you teased, "Only one thing this time?"

Tech arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Just this once." With deliberate movements, he pushed himself up onto one elbow, transitioning back onto his knees, while simultaneously lifting you to him and allowing your legs to hang around his waist.

You pulled yourself up onto his lap, holding onto his neck for support. “Go on.”

"You are not weak," Tech affirmed, his hands firmly grasping your thighs as he bounced on his heels and lifted you both up. His movements were fluid as he rose to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I daresay you are dangerous."

His remark elicited a genuine laugh from you, though it didn't diminish the charm you found in his words. If anything, it heightened it.

With a subtle tap on your leg, he signaled for you to lower your legs. “As enjoyable as this is, I'd prefer not to delve further into it while my brothers could walk in at any moment," he explained, assisting you to regain your balance. With a deft movement, he produced your hair tie as if out of thin air. "I've given great thought to the aspects of you I wish to explore. And I intend to do so without interruption."

Before you could get another touch in Tech stepped back and tapped his goggles, initiating a soft beep. “Now that we’ve identified the issue, get into position and show me your stances.”

You laughed, “You’re kidding me.”

“I am not, but should you need further encouragement I do have ideas for rewards for your strongest positions.”

It didn’t take you long to get into position.

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. bowling with p1harmony!

a/n: some of u may not know but hot & mysterious user kissoulie has a bowling hyperfixation!! 😭 i went bowling last night for 3hrs and i'm prob going to go again tonight 🤭 this reminded me that seob posted a pic of piwon bowling while they were on tour which is why my brain made this! this is def not my best work but i work like all week so i wanted to write a lil smth silly, short, & fun before i post my first series masterlist tmrw 💓

cws: fem bodied reader but generally gender neutral (use of "pretty"), not entirely explicit smut?? it's just not super detailed the bowling is the main focus my bad 😭, 3some (soulseob), skim proofread for readability only pls excuse all spelling/grammar errors i wrote half of this in a movie theater! that's all i believe, lmk if i missed anything ‹3

— keeho.

he definitely has an average over 125 you cannot convince me otherwise. he's a straight bowler, but knows how to hook a ball. i also think he has his own bowling ball because he's extra like that. best bowler in piwon!!! i think he kinda bowls like an old man, and still gets extremely hyped for every strike. he will def blow your back out after a bowling date though ❤️ his baby did so well!!! you even almost beat him, so he thinks you deserve a reward, and he knows for you there's no better reward than his fingers inside you while he fucks your pretty head empty.

— taeyang.

he's the average bowler for sure. i'm not entirely convinced he gets super competitive over it, i think he's just there to have fun!! definitely uses an 8, has no particular technique he just walks forward and sends it lol. assuming you're bowling at a place with couches, he for sure has you in his lap while his members go. he orders you both french fries but soul eats them all while you're distracted eye fucking each other 😭😭 he'll start feeling you up, one hand inching higher and higher up your thigh while the other presses against your middle to hold you in place. may or may not invite you to a 'bathroom' break by tapping your thigh and announcing, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" with some searing eye contact while he walks away, which will leave your stomach in knots thinking about how he's going to rearrange your insides ‹3

— jiung.

i think he's super competitive about this actually 😭 he probably practices bowling at least once a week if they go often, it's something he has a lot of fun getting better at! he hooks as many of his shots as he can, definitely a spare sniper who leaves only a few frames open per game. maybe i'm just a jiung professional bowler truther. he uses his newfound finger dexterity on you though, curling his fingers inside you perfectly while thumbing at your clit. he'll have you seeing stars in no time.

— intak.

straight bowler, averages 100, bowls with a 9. he's pretty straightforward when bowling, he's there to have a good time & look good doing it. i am also of a mind that he plays pool, specifically with you. loser gets the best head of their life (his idea). naturally, he's the one who wins and gets to have you choking around his cock in the back seat while the rest of his members wonder where you both have gone.

— soulseob.

The competitive ever. please they both want to impress you!!! seob is bowling for his life!!!! soul is just having fun!!!! (he got a gutter ball and screeched like a dinosaur.) your little giggles spur them on, "winner gets a kiss" 😭 their sibling rivalry has been unlocked, but their rivalry in bed is worse!! seob did throw 119 in the end, beating soul by 3 pins, and he wastes no time in taking you back to the dorms to get his prize. he shoves you down onto his bed while soul trails behind, "watch us, sho." jongseob holds your hands to pin them to the bed, slipping into you with a wet squelch. his body grinds into yours with desperation you didn't know he had. he fucks you nice and rough. "think he deserves a consolation prize, baby?" you nod dumbly, your eyes droopy and dilated. "poor princess." he muses, beckoning soul closer, letting him stretch you out impossibly wider, your mouth dropping open in a broken moan. ‹3

taglist: @tkooooop ♡

[reasonandempathy]

As part of its ongoing genocide, which started on 7 October 2023, the Israeli army is using new disturbing techniques to intimidate, lure, and target Palestinian civilians in the central Gaza Strip’s Nuseirat refugee camp.

Testimonies from camp residents, which were provided to the Euro-Med Monitor team, confirm that the sound of women screaming and babies crying was heard late at night on both Sunday and Monday. When some of the residents went out to investigate and tried to help, they were shot at by Israeli quadcopter drones. The sounds they had heard were in fact recordings played by the Israeli drones, with the intent of forcing the camp’s residents out into the streets, where they could be easily targeted by snipers and other weaponry.

According to the testimonies, this tactic also involved broadcasting gunshots, armed conflicts, explosions, military vehicle movements, and occasionally songs in Hebrew and Arabic in order to psychologically intimidate civilians who live amid total darkness at night and total disconnection from the external world.

Secondary Reporting from Yahoo

REPORTS have emerged of Israeli drones playing recordings of women and children crying to lure Palestinians to locations where they can be targeted before opening fire.

Residents of Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp – situated in the north – said they were woken up on Monday night to sounds of babies crying and women calling out for help.

When they went to help, they reported Israeli drones opening fire on them. According to witnesses at the scene, up to ten people were injured by the drone fire overnight.

One resident told the Middle East Eye that they heard a woman screaming for help, saying, “Help me, my son was martyred”.